


Things Forgotten

by JamJar98



Category: NCIS
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23688361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamJar98/pseuds/JamJar98
Summary: “Stay?” His voice was low, washing over her as he kissed her cheek.“I thought that was why you were plying me with liquor.” She laughed, feeling his muscles tense and his skin reacting as she whispered in his ear.“Jack,” he sounded exasperated. “I’m askin’ ya to move in.”
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Comments: 11
Kudos: 107





	Things Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a number of things. It's a tag to the Blue chapter in Shades of You. During a recent rewatch of the show, specifically season 7. I felt compelled to write this even more after watching 'Mothers day', in which M. Allison Hart goes through a small box filled with pictures.

He watched her from where he’d made himself comfortable on a saw-horse, bourbon in one hand and a sander somewhere close by. She seemed far too engrossed in her case file to be aware that he was silently studying her. She clicked her pen, and he tapped his boot against the concrete floor, continuing their little game. He caught her slight smile and allowed his own grin to form.

Lifting the mason jar to his lips, he swallowed the last mouthful and slid off the saw-horse. He stalled for a moment, unsure of how to approach the subject that had been on his mind lately. It seemed his hesitation caught her attention, and he was confronted with questioning brown eyes. He motioned towards the bottle of _Jim Beam,_ and she nodded.

The amber alcohol sloshed against the tempered glass as he swirled it around. Leaning against the workbench, he listened to her run through the case, trying to make sense of what she was reading. The heavy framed glasses were pushed up, holding her blonde locks in place and he desperately wanted to run his fingers through her hair. He was aware she didn’t really want his input. She just needed to hear her own thoughts out loud.

Amusement settled over him as he listened to her answer her own question. She seemed satisfied with her conclusion for now, the diminutive nod seemingly sealing the deal. Turning those big brown eyes on him, he finally allowed himself to tuck the small strand of hair that escaped back in place.

Tracing his fingers across her brow and down her cheek, he moved closer. She grinned, bumping her nose against his gently. “You have no idea what I just said.” He shook his head and smiled when she laughed, her fingers carding through his hair.

Gibbs groaned as she pressed her thumbs against his temples, massaging gently. “Headache?” He simply nodded at her question, blue eyes bleary with exhaustion. He pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand, calloused fingers wrapping around her wrists.

Jack shifted, drawing him between her thighs. There was a brief flicker of something that she couldn’t quite place. His fingers tightened fractionally, the corner of his mouth pinched and his eyes narrowing. She’d seen that look before and she wondered if it really pained him that much to talk about how he felt.

“Stay?” His voice was low, washing over her as he kissed her cheek.

“I thought that was why you were plying me with liquor.” She laughed, feeling his muscles tense and his skin reacting as she whispered in his ear.

“Jack,” he sounded exasperated. “I’m askin’ ya to move in.” He felt her fists clench in his hoodie.

Forcing him to take a step back, she saw the smirk curl the corners of his mouth. There wasn’t a time she’d ever seen him nervous. Angry, irritated—scared even, but never nervous. It was obvious in the way he suddenly tried to put more distance between them. She refused, fingers tightening in the red material. If he was going to be open, she wasn’t letting him run from it.

He reached for his mason jar, swallowing the alcohol in one go.

“What brought this on?” The last thing she expected was for him to dive head first into this. “Is it because Nick left?”

He raised an eyebrow out of annoyance, unimpressed by her sudden need to dissect his question. He probably would have asked her sooner had Nick not been staying on his couch for the last week. He shook his head as she pressed her knuckles forcefully against his shoulder.

He lifted his shoulders, somewhere between a shrug and defeat. He pulled against her grip, glaring at her fingers when she refused to let go. Pressing her lips in a thin line, she tugged at the material. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t.”

The dark look on his face had her loosen her grip. “Didn’t say much of anything.” He snapped, finally moving away from her.

She rolled her eyes. He was particularly moody tonight and there was more to it than just his question. The last few months had been hard on both of them. Nick’s accident had been the perfect excuse to ignore everything that was wrong between them.

Blocking his attempt to put some more distance between them, she grabbed his hand. He scowled at her, thick eyebrows pinched in frustration. The muscles in his jaw tight as he ground his teeth together. Running her fingers over the stubble on his jaw, she pressed her palm against his cheek.

“Give me a few days?” She asked quietly. He seemed to relax, forcing whatever vulnerability had shown back in its box as he conceded.

* * *

Three weeks, that’s how long he’d held out for an answer. He’d looked at her with pleading blue eyes for the first few days, but she didn’t have an answer for him. Seven days later and he acted as if nothing had happened in the basement. Occasionally showing up at her apartment in the dead of night, tired and smelling of saw dust. They were pushing the five-week mark even if she’d made up her mind the moment he’d asked.

The front door swung open without a sound. She stepped into the warm confines, trying to find a sign of life. The light in the dining room was off, indicating he’d already turned in for the night. Closing the door as softly as it had opened, she ventured into the dark living room.

He was stretched out across the couch, a set of toes exposed to the frigid night air. She studied him for a moment, wondering if he was going to continue pretending he was asleep. Taking a seat on the coffee table, she watched him feign sleep for a few more minutes.

The heavy sigh that escaped him had her sitting up, unable to miss the frustration he was dealing with. One blue eye cracked open, making sure his instincts were right. He grumbled as he pushed himself up, quickly tucking his cold toes under the blanket.

Scrubbing a hand across his face, Gibbs tried to clear some of the tiredness before he dealt with a questioning Jacqueline Sloane. He ran his tongue across his teeth, watching her chew on her thumb. “Jack?” She looked up at him, startled from her thoughts. “There a reason you’re breaking and entering at 4 o’clock in the morning?”

She twitched her nose in distaste at his comment, knowing that he’d most likely been aware she was sitting outside his house.

“Door’s unlocked.” The answer only afforded her a pointed look.

He relaxed against the couch, trying to ignore the stiffness in his knee. She seemed harried and distracted. “This about the other night?” He wasn’t that oblivious to her feelings, she wanted time to think and he gave her exactly what she wanted.

He didn’t blame her for wanting some time to work it out. On paper he didn’t exactly tick all the right boxes, but somehow he always ended up in a relationship that left a lot to be desired.

She didn’t say anything, and he felt his mind spin. He’d missed her while Torres had crashed on his couch. Something he wasn’t going to admit just yet. It had seemed logical to ask her to move in with him. She spent more time at his house than her apartment. He’d almost lost her and had tried to push her away. Kate, Jenny, Shannon—he’d loved all of them and ended up losing them. He couldn’t lose her as well. So he reverted to old habits.

She was too stubborn for her own good. He doubted he was any different than what he was thirty years ago, but she stuck around anyway. She understood him better than anyone, was there for him when his own team ran and hid.

The silence was unnerving for once, there was no indication that she was going to fill it. He wouldn’t put it past her to give him a dose of his own medicine, but something else had driven her here tonight.

“You never talk, Gibbs.” The admission was so quiet he strained to hear her. Whatever retort he had was silenced as she held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Brushing off his glare, she stood from the coffee table. He craned his neck, trying to keep her in his line of sight as she stopped in front of the bookcase. Sighing, he dropped his feet to the floor.

“I asked if you wanted to talk.” He growled in frustration as she paced to the opposite side of the living room.

Her brows knit together, head tilted to the side. “No, I don’t think so.” They had never talked, not after she’d been shot and definitely not since Phineas left.

“Damn it, Jack!”

“What?!” She clenched her jaw. It was a mistake coming here tonight. She had left him guessing for too long.

“After Ziva.” He finally answered. “I asked…” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. He dropped his gaze to the floor. “Not just me, Jack. You don’t talk either.”

She stilled for a moment, swallowing heavily. Of course he would bring that up. Pursing her lips in thought, she pushed away from where she’d been leaning against the wall. Taking a seat on the coffee table once more. Running a hand through her hair, she shook her head slightly.

“Fair enough.” She answered quietly. He had a point, as much as she pressed him to open up, she ran every chance she got. “I get it, Gibbs.”

He looked up from where he was staring at nothing in particular. He dropped a hand on her knee, squeezing softly, hoping to show her he wasn’t angry. There was something in the way she had said his name that drew his attention. Looking at her, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. They hadn’t spent time together since the weekend and some how he had missed just how tired she was.

“I kept things bottled up for a long time.” She sniffed, and he squeezed her knee again. “Leon can tell you a lot about my first few years back home.”

Gibbs let out a heavy breath, reaching for her hand instead. Running his thumb over her knuckles he waited her out.

“There’s still a lot of stuff I have to let go of, things that I wouldn’t want anyone to ever experience.” She squeezed his hand back, drawing strength from him. “Sometimes we have to let go, Gibbs.”

She was talking about more than just the war and torture she had been through. There were more personal things that she had to deal with, things that were harder to discuss. Perhaps for the first time he understood what she meant. He wanted to be there for her when she decided it was time to talk about it.

Taking a deep breath, he stood pulling her up with him. She didn’t want him to spill his guts all the time, and for that he was thankful. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her against him. “I asked ya to move in cause…” he shook his head a nervous smile crossing his face. “Cause I miss you when you’re not here.”

The returning smile was worth it as she moulded herself against him. “See it wasn’t that hard.”

He rolled his eyes.

* * *

She could hear him lumber up the stairs, muttering about something she couldn’t make out, but she could hazard a guess. There had been no hesitation on either of their part on when she’d be moving in. He’d shown up at her door with coffee and more boxes to pack the last few things.

Heavy footsteps thundered down the hall, headed straight for her. It was an unusually hot day, much like the one they had a few weeks ago, and she suspected the heat was getting to him. There was a crash and she closed her eyes.

“Jack!”

She snickered at the irritation. Leaving what she had been busy with, she wandered into the hall, trying to see what had him so riled up. She snorted when she found him with a torn box and some of her clothes draped over his feet.

“Why do you have some of my bras over your shoulder?” The amusement was just too much to hide.

Gibbs bent down, picking up yet more of her clothes. “Bottom of the other box tore open.” He sighed as he stood up, flinging them over his other shoulder.

“Please tell me my underwear isn’t strewn across the lawn.” There was just too much mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Nah.” He smiled throwing the ruined box with the rest. Pushing past her, he dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “Left them on the driveway.”

“Leroy Jethro Gibbs.” The threat was hidden right there in his given names and he gave her that cheeky smile he had when he was halfway through a bourbon bottle.

“Goin’ for the married tone already, Jack?” There was delight hidden in his words at the mere thought. Making light of the subject, he carried on as he threw the garments on the bed. “Who showed you how to fold a box anyway?”

“Judging by the handwriting on that one, you’re to blame.” She grinned as he glared at her.

Gibbs shook his head and turned to the old boxes stacked in the corner of the bedroom. The dusty brown objects had been his silent companions since he’d started sleeping in here again. In the back of his mind, he’d expected to dread the idea of moving them out of sight. Maybe it was her excitement rubbing off on him, but he had made peace with moving them into storage.

He heard her soft groan, looking over his shoulder he saw her struggle with the bedside drawer. “Need some help?” He left the boxes for now.

“When was the last time this thing was opened?” The question was tentative as she placed a hand on his back.

Grabbing a hold of the handle, he tugged forcefully. “Not-” He pulled again, “since 91.”

The thought had crossed her mind that it had been that long. She had been a little hesitant when they had unloaded the first load of her things. It was real now and he seemed as calm as ever as he carried her things around.

There was a loud thunk as he tried to loosen the drawer, he tugged and it came flying out, scattering the contents all over the floor.

There were photographs scattered all over the floor and a few trinkets. Kneeling she quickly gathered them as he hunted for the small box that had hit the wooden floor with an ungodly sound. Flipping some of the photographs over, she froze for a second.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen pictures of Kelly, there was a Christmas card that was on the mantle each year during the holidays. It was, however, the first time she saw a young Gibbs holding an infant Kelly. He’d mentioned once that he had been deployed when Kelly had been born. Sharing a part of him when she had told him about Faith.

Piling the photos together, she placed them on the bed and helped him search.

The box sat right near the corner closest to her. “Found it.”

She grabbed the box and pulled it out from under the bed. The lid popped off unexpectedly and she stared at the contents.

The tension was palpable as she reached inside the box. She froze, looking up at him. “I didn’t mean to…”

Jethro relaxed, reaching for the photos on the bed. He met her apologetic gaze and took a breath trying to ease the sudden shock at the revelation. “It’s fine, Jack. Forgot they were in there.”

Reaching inside the small box, he took out the wedding bands, holding them in his palm. “I… uh, couldn’t get rid of them after-” He shrugged, giving her a tight smile. “I’ll put them in the attic with the rest of the boxes.”

Jack shook her head, closing her hand around his larger one. “No, Gibbs.” She looked at the broken little box in her hand. Giving him a brightened look she shot out the room.

He heard her shuffle through some of the boxes, talking to herself as she searched for whatever it was she was looking for. It wasn’t long before she returned with an embossed metal tin in her hands. Curiosity got the better of him as he leaned over her shoulder see what it was.

Popping the lid, it revealed four PSYOP insignia pins. He watched her touch the pins reverently, lips pressed together she turned towards him. “They were your family.” She closed her hand over his again. “And they were mine. It’s all I have left of them.”

Placing the small box inside the tin, she held it out to him. She could see the hesitation in his eyes and questioned herself. He blinked at her and dropped the wedding bands in the small box safely encased. Placing the lid back firmly, she put it back in the drawer.

“Some things are worth holding on to.”

He nodded, not sure he’d actually be able to answer her. It meant a great deal to him that she had not overreacted. He saw her peek at the photos in his hands again and he offered them to her. “You would’ve liked her.” The pictures were all of Kelly and the short 8 years he had with her. “There’s a photo album on the bookcase. Should probably add them in there.”

The pictures were placed neatly on the bedside drawer.

Taking her hand he pulled her against him. Cupping her cheek, he felt her lean into him. Meeting her halfway, he kissed her. He appreciated her warmth as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as he deepened their kiss.

Pulling away to catch their breath, he pressed his forehead against hers, smiling as she grinned up at him. “We should probably go pick up your underwear from the driveway, before Mister Harrison has a heart attack.”

“ _Leroy Jethro_ Gibbs!”

“See! There ya go again with the married tone!”

**Author's Note:**

> Some creative license has been taken with the pins. If you are curios what the PSYOP insignia looks like you can find it [here](https://www.armyupress.army.mil/Journals/Military-Review/Online-Exclusive/2018-OLE/Mar/PSYOP/)


End file.
